


we two together never have laid down

by flightofwonder



Series: i love the way you see the world [6]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Ableism, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Blood and Gore, Dissociation, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani Hurt/Comfort, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani Needs a Hug, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani Whump, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Medical Torture, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Protective Nile Freeman, Team as Family, allegories to the crusades, everyone in this family loves each other so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27104347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightofwonder/pseuds/flightofwonder
Summary: They were getting out. They wereallgetting out. Then, he would take care of Yusuf. Whatever it took.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Nile Freeman & Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani & Nicky | Nicolo di Genova & Quynh
Series: i love the way you see the world [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864540
Comments: 113
Kudos: 310
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We did it, kids! We are officially in Too Deep for one verse!
> 
> This is in my deaf!Joe au. This is a direct sequel to... the second to last section in "see how thy hands are torn (thy tender hands)", and there are references to events in "it sounds lovely". I'm not expecting a lot of feedback because of this lmao but if you _do_ read and enjoy, please let me know, I really do appreciate it! And everyone who has said nice stuff about this verse so far: I love you. 
> 
> I split this into three parts. As of right now, the second part is finished but unedited, so I'm hoping to get all three parts up this week. 
> 
> Mature rating for R-rated violence.

_We two together never have laid down;_  
_Now one, adoring, keepeth watch thereof_

\- _Pietà_ , Rainer Maria Rilke

* * *

“I was like you, once.”

The doctor said nothing as she put a bit of his spleen into a clear glass container. This was the first time she’d been back with Nicky since they took Joe away, which must have been hours ago. Hours of Nicky lying here, useless, as Joe got tortured in another lab. His screams as they took Joe had faded eventually, and a familiar icy rage settled as a delicate layer in his chest, right above his heart.

“I thought I was better than him,” said Nicky evenly, eyes locked on that petite frame draped in white, the picture of utter indifference. But he would get her to interact. He always did.

“I thought I was above people like him,” and Nicky’s voice was cool, his gaze unflinching. “I thought all the pain I wrought was worth it because I was saving them. I was _fixing_ them.”

This finally broke the doctor from her apathetic concentration, a crease in her brow betraying her irritation as she pulled off her red-stained gloves. “I’m a person of science, not a genocidal Crusader. I don’t operate on bigotry.”

“Don’t you?” said Nicky, voice not raising a pitch. “Are you not torturing my husband right now because you want to cure him? Because you think you can _remedy_ his way of living?” The ice in his chest was wide enough to cover his ribcage, now. “He never asked for our help. Another thing we have in common.”

This got to her, he could tell, because she cut into his sternum with more force than her usual detachment warranted.

 _Good_ , he thought, blood coating his icy chest. _Stay with me, away from Joe._

“You think you’re making history,” Nicky bit out, his eyes following hers like a cat stalking a mouse. “You’re just joining the ranks of those who repeated it.”

It became impossible to talk after that – she must have gone for something in his throat – and his vision grew blurry from the pain and he slipped into unconsciousness. When the wounds closed themselves up and Nicky opened his eyes again, the doctor was gone.

Nicky pounded his head against the back of the table and screamed as the ice in his chest finally shattered.

* * *

“Where’s Joe?” was the first and only thing out of Andy’s mouth, and Nicky swallowed around his lack of an answer. Then Booker said something, but it sounded distant, unbelievable. Nicky always processed information at a quick pace, but _this_ \- this made no sense, this shifted his world on its axis, and he refused to process it without Joe here to help him right it.

Booker’s vague excuses drifted past his ears, and instead of listening, Nicky scanned the room past the guards in the process of restraining their new captors and saw that the doctor had disappeared again. Which meant she was with Joe.

Nicky ground his teeth so hard, he felt one of them crack and reform right next to his tongue.

“Booker,” said Nicky evenly, “I suggest you stop talking.”

He did. The three of them were left with nothing but their thoughts for a long time.

Then, shooting from beyond the doorway. It was distant and muffled, but Nicky would know the sound of gunfire anywhere. Being bound and with no way for his body to instinctively react, his mind pushed out of the foggy despair that incapacitated him and forced himself to piece together what he’d missed.

“Nile,” he said aloud as soon as he thought it, and as if his word had summoned her, suddenly she was there.

And so was Joe.

He started ripping off Nicky’s restraints with ferocity, but Nicky couldn’t help but stare at the state of him. He was also shirtless, but whole, but his head –

Joe tossed him his shirt and Nicky let his thousand years of instinct override his whirling thoughts enough to dress and arm himself. But no sooner was he ready to fight than he moved back to Joe’s side, eyeing his blood-soaked right ear: its tips just finished healing before his eyes. Whatever they’d done to him, it took him this long to heal.

Instead of screaming again, he gripped his pistol and cupped his hand to the back of Joe’s neck, the few pulsations he could make out under his fingertips enough to reassure him that he was alive. Joe met his eyes for the first time and gave him a shadow of a smile, mirroring the gesture before arming himself. As he ducked away out of Nicky’s reach, Nicky’s hand was sticky with his blood.

He fell in line beside Nile before he could make a mistake that cost them their freedom. Instead, he sharpened and directed everything he was feeling to the front of the formation. He would be a shield.

“Stop brooding, Booker,” said Joe lightly, handing him an assault rifle as they got into position. Nicky pursed his lips and sharpened his focus.

The first thing Nicky’s eyes caught was a trail of red blood against white tiles, not spattered or splayed, but landing as if from a steady drip. It followed from beyond the hall, past the guards they easily disposed of, and even after clearing the room, Nicky’s eyes followed it until they were met with a set of metallic doors similar to the one they were in.

Another lab.

A part of him wanted to follow it, as if he could walk back in time to keep Joe from ever being taken, ever being hurt – but he saw Nile protect Andy, and he hissed through his teeth as his priorities were brought back into sharp focus. He stepped forward to block the bullets that were aimed her way. They hardly felt like pinpricks to the cold in his chest.

He rearmed himself and Joe seamlessly, and they operated as smoothly as they always had. But when they turned a corner, his eyes grazed over the splatter of blood across Joe’s eyebrow, the violence of red against his dark brown cheekbone, the muddy color mixing with his dark curls right above his ear –

It took everything in Nicky’s power to find his center again and push through his rage when his own heart made manifest was so clearly wounded.

They were getting out. They were _all_ getting out. Then, he would take care of Yusuf. Whatever it took.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, what the heck?? I did NOT expect to get as many responses as I did, so THANK YOU to everyone who shared your kind words!! It motivated me like crazy (thus, new chapter the next day). 
> 
> Just so you know, it's the next chapter that will earn the R-rating for violence; this chapter is pretty gen. I'm sorry I'm taking twenty years to get to the Point, but the set-up is fairly important to me.
> 
> Thanks again for reading!!

Joe, like all people, was a creature of habits. And when you were maimed and killed as often as they were, the habits of comfort that came off the heels of such hurt were somewhat predictable. Andy needed space, and she needed to watch over her team; two conflicting needs that she still hadn't perfected the balance of. Booker needed to drink – or at least, that was what they had thought he needed. Nicky was like Andy, he needed to keep all members of the family in his line of sight for a least a few days. They would learn what Nile needed eventually, and they would give it to her.

And Joe – Joe needed Nicky. And Nicky was there, offering his pulse to feel against his long fingers, the familiarity of their digits intertwined. Joe leaned into his every touch, sighed against his skin as they held each other tight, pressed their lips to every part of their bodies they could reach. This routine was familiar, and it settled something in them as they tried to adjust to their new lives for the hundredth time.

But things were slightly different this time. Joe was never shy about his feelings or his hurts, not with Nicky. He would bare his wounds for only Nicky to see, and Nicky would witness and wash them away as best as he could. Both knew that healing was never so simple or straightforward, but as others skirted the edges of reconciling what was done to them, Joe dove straight into the mess. He was fearless like that.

This time, however, Joe kept his wounds to himself. Joe was honest when he admitted that he wasn’t okay, but he was also silent where he usually would have divulged further. That concerned Nicky more than anything else, even more than the blood he had washed from Joe’s face and hair that coated his ear like a layer of paint, and implications of that sight alone kept him up at night.

Both of them had plenty of nightmares in the months following Merrick, and as always, they soothed each other through them. Nicky allowed Joe to gentle him out of his terrors, even though he felt heavy in the knowledge that his dreams were of what _might_ have happened to Joe, while Joe still held the truth close to his chest, where it spilled over into his dreams at night. Nicky never liked shaking Joe awake from his nightmares, but that was his only option: he couldn’t wake him up with words, and he slept too deeply to be woken up by gentle shoves. Those chestnut brown eyes, wide and frightened in the recesses of a dream – a _memory_ – was like a lance through his chest.

But while Joe eagerly soaked up every touch Nicky had to give – and there would never be a time when he would hold back from Joe, not now or ever – the words of admission that usually followed the morning after such nightmares were pointedly missing. Instead, Joe would kiss him sweetly while Nicky was still wrapped in the sheets, before disappearing through the doorway in the early dawn. Joe never used to be the first one out of bed. Nothing was fitting correctly back into place this time around.

Andy’s mortality, Booker’s absence and all it implied, and Nile’s introduction to the group – they were all such new and jarring pieces of this puzzle that were their family. This wasn’t the first time they encountered changes, of course, and Nicky had faith that they would find their new way together. But the reality of Andy’s mortality and Booker’s betrayal were both so frighteningly new to Nicky and Joe. If Nicky was feeling on-edge from all of it, he could only guess at how Joe was trying to make sense of it all. Not that Joe kept that process to himself – even at his most withdrawn, Joe would share gentle musings and theories with Nicky, would express his doubts and worries. But what Joe had offered up felt minimized to the disarray behind his eyes. Only someone who had known Joe for as long as he had would ever be able to tell.

Not that Nicky wasn’t grateful for what Joe shared, for a small amount of Joe’s soul could move mountains on its own merits. But the longer Joe went on without talking about the lab, the more Nicky worried. Joe had to know this, and more than once, he’d watched Joe wrestle with himself as they lay together in the morning, to make himself put what he went through in words. And every time so far, he’s lost that battle, giving in with a weak smile or a kiss to Nicky’s cheek, silently pleading with his eyes for more time. Of course, Nicky gave it to him.

So instead, Nicky focused on his new team. He “mother henned” Andy to an “incessant degree”, but despite these vocal complaints, she never made any move to stop him when he would check her wound or massage her wrists or back without asking. Andromache (the oldest of us, the newly mortal, _their Andy_ ) knew that Nicky needed to do this, wouldn’t rest until he did everything he could to make sure his family was as well as they could be. Admittedly, perhaps his lack of progress with Joe led to “mother henning” both Andy and Nile than was strictly necessary, cooking and cleaning and keeping them close in his sights. While Andy barely tolerated it, with all the love she could muster, Nile didn’t seem to mind.

Nile’s arrival was ultimately fortuitous. Her arrival brought complications, sure, but such was life – they’d adjusted before, and they’d adjust again. Nobody blamed her for these complications, of course, and they wouldn’t have, even if she hadn’t done more for them in just a day than they’d done for her in the weeks that followed.

Nicky liked Nile instantly, liked her resilience and strong moral code, liked that she challenged everyone in this immortal group as much as she challenged herself. She was fearless, dropping her opinion in the middle of conversations, some that the three of them had been debating for almost a thousand years. She didn’t flinch away from the years between them when he offered her insight, but she always listened. They were rare qualities combined, and Nicky enjoyed the effects of them immensely.

She wasn’t always interested in such philosophical conversations, of course. Some days, the weight of her loss seemed physically manifested in her dark eyes, and it was all she could do to eat what Nicky put in front of her before she threw herself back into a numbing routine of training. But as weeks passed and they grew used to each other’s presence, Nicky saw it as an honor that Nile was already engaging in these conversations, and the two of them had stayed up late into the night discussing the military complex more than once already. She was just as eager to learn what she could from him, about anything and everything, and oh, the comparisons to Joe were almost blinding. Two curious, philosophical, creative but practical souls. Nicky couldn’t understand why she and Joe hadn’t bonded immediately.

Nicky had noticed a gap in their relationship and had tentatively brought it up to Joe more than once, asking what he could do, but Joe literally waved off his concerns and said that was just how it was sometimes, that some bonds formed slower than others. Logically, Nicky knew he was right, but Joe never took this long to bond before: everyone liked Joe, and for good reason. The idea that Nile might be an exception was unnerving for the future of their group. But Nicky didn’t bring it up again, and sure enough, in time, Nile and Joe seemed to be easier around one another. 

But there was a significant shift after Nile took Joe to that concert, of all things. Joe had reported back with obvious delight about the event itself, but something had happened between Nile and Joe. Nile no longer found reasons to escape when Joe was around, instead signing quickly and eagerly with him, at a pace that even Nicky sometimes struggled to keep up with. They joked and teased and laughed with each other, and where they once kept a distance, they instead shared tactile affection, which was what Joe thrived on above all else. Nile bumped their shoulders together on sunny afternoons after training, play-slapped his hands away when they cooked, and more and more often, Nile would encroach on Joe’s space when they relaxed on whatever surface was available in the evening, Joe giving Nicky a heart melting smile over her head as she leaned against him. In general, Joe looked so much lighter for whatever had happened between them, that Nicky wanted to kiss Nile himself in thanks.

So, things improved, as Nicky had to believe they would. Andromache disappeared less and less, Nile engaged more and more. Nicky’s anxiety abated enough that anyone, even Joe, could leave his line of sight for more than a handful of minutes at a time. And Nicky saw Joe’s precious crow’s feet more often as every day passed by. Even if it was just by small measurements, he didn’t hold himself quite as carefully as he had before.

But Joe still hadn’t said a word about Merrick. That shouldn’t have mattered, really; Joe was clearly getting better, and that was what was important. But even in this happier state, Nicky knew Joe was still balancing something fragile in his hands that nobody else could see. He stood a bit too taut, shoulders not as loose as they usually were. He still used his lips to censor words that only Nicky could see were barely held back by his tongue; Joe had never been one for censoring, himself or otherwise. And when Joe woke in the middle of the night, he would inhale sharply, catching his breath in that way only Nicky knew was how he stopped himself from screaming.

Nicky longed to take the burden from him, already feeling every hurt as his own, but that wasn’t how these things worked. He had to remind himself every time Joe shook from nightmares or stared off into the distance just a little too long. Joe needed time. And when he got enough of it, Nicky would be right here to see the rest through.

* * *

It was a few more months before Andy thought they were ready to take on a job as a newly formed group, and for them, it was remarkably low risk. Breaking into a medical facility that was scheduled to indefinitely hold perfectly good medical supplies, and a lot of them. Nicky never understood how human greed could be this ferocious, how people would rather let innocent people die than reduce their profits. None of them felt particularly bad about stealing medicine that would save people’s lives if they weren’t being held at ransom.

They worked with a mutual aid group to organize the operation, and they managed to wrangle a few vans without tags and people to help move the supplies. Their group was just there to take out the guards and help move the cargo; it was practically a milk run, but no one voiced any complaints. It was a way they could help, so they did. If it was less likely to turn into a situation where they were stuck in a storm of bullets, Nicky had no intention of looking that particular gift horse in the mouth.

Thankfully, unlike their last mission in Sudan, this one went off without a hitch. Security was knocked out and tied up within a minute, then they led the vans to the docking bay before working methodically to clear the rest of the rooms in the warehouse. In less than twenty minutes, the job was done.

There was only one moment that was off. During the sweeps, Nicky had lost track of Nile and had to double back, which was unusual in and of itself; she was the youngest of them, but perhaps the most disciplined. When he turned the corner, gun at the ready, he saw her staring into a doorway, gun slightly lowered.

“Nile?” Nicky whispered. Nile turned her head like her neck had been snapped. His light caught Nile like a deer in the headlights, and for only for a second, her eyes were blown wide in terror.

Nicky tightened his grip on his gun, assuming the worst, but before he could react, Nile had recovered, her eyes sharp and her aim straight. “Clear,” she said firmly, then indicated for Nicky to move on before she would follow. Nicky did just that, and when he made his rounds this time, Nile was on his tail, where she was supposed to be.

Later, with all parties involved scattered to the winds, and after hours of taking shifts driving across the border to one of their more discreet safe houses, Nicky got Nile to help with their light dinner as Joe and Andy unloaded their supplies before asking about it.

“Are you okay?” he said quietly, starting the pot to boil, and Nile nodded before the question was even out. In his experience, that did not indicate an honest answer.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” said Nile briskly as she cut up the carrots, eyes focused on the work in front of her.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he explained softly. “I just want to know what happened. For next time.”

Nile waved her hand dismissively, and Nicky wondered if she’d picked that up from Joe.

“One of the rooms looked like… a lab.” Nile spoke succinctly, but he was starting to recognize the tension that snuck into her voice was she was aiming to act professional and push past her feelings. “Brought back – obviously. Not a big deal, just took me by surprise.”

Nicky felt a spike of animalistic panic and rage at just the mention of a lab, and he barely gripped the countertop instead of burning his hand on the handle of the boiling pot.

“But I’m glad I cleared the room instead of any of you,” said Nile, finally looking at him, her expression heavy, but she aimed for a genuine smile. Nicky found that he was grateful, too, and he touched her shoulder in quiet thanks as he moved to finish preparing the table. In time, Joe and Andy joined them, and neither Nile nor Nicky brought up the old ghosts that had stirred at her mention of them.

 _Nile found Joe_ , his mind whispered, _she saw what –_

He didn’t let himself finish that thought. Instead, his hand found Joe’s on the table, and when Nicky inquisitively slid his fingers underneath Joe’s fingertips, his heart smiled and opened the palm of his hand, lacing their fingers together instantly into that perfect fit. It instantly grounded him, and both of them spent the rest of their meal eating with only one hand.

* * *

Nicky woke to the sound of light footsteps at the doorway. He was awake immediately, but before he had moved to reach for his gun, he saw not an intruder, but Nile. The dim yellow hallway light haloed her dark hair and small frame where she stood in the sliver of space of the open door.

She darted away, but Nicky called out her name at a regular volume, knowing that Joe would sleep undisturbed through it if he kept still enough.

Nile crept back into his line of sight, but she hovered by the doorway, uncertain.

“Bad dream?” Nicky asked, giving her an encouraging smile.

“No – well, yeah, but not about… yeah.” Nile crossed her arms in front of her, whispering. Her expression was hidden by the shadows, but he could still make out the direction of her eyes. He watched as she scanned the room, before her gaze slid past Nicky and landed on Joe curled up behind him. And as soon as they found Joe’s shape in the darkness, they didn’t budge an inch.

Nicky realized what she must have been dreaming about. His stomach tightened at the reminder, but he didn’t follow that thought under. Instead, Nicky shook Joe with one arm, and before Nile could get her protest out, Joe was grunting awake. Nicky turned on the side light so Joe could see him sign when his eyes finally stopped blurring from sleep.

 _“Nile needs to join us tonight,”_ Nicky signed simply, and Joe closed his eyes against the light and nodded before scooting over to make a spot between him and Nicky on the bed.

“No, you don’t –” Nile was still whispering, which Nicky found endearing, but he just stretched out his hand.

“We all need this, sometimes,” Nicky explained, lifting the blankets and smiling a bit as Joe grunted in displeasure at being uncovered. “Andy slept with us after… everything.”

And that was true. Andy had slept between them for almost a month straight after Merrick, dozing upright against the headboard, the two of them occasionally holding hands across her lap as they slept. Andy loved them so much, and sometimes that meant she could not rest unless she felt her boys at her side, especially after a bad mission. The two of them, Andy and –

 _Don’t_ , he reminded himself at Booker’s absence, trying to quell the anger and sorrow before they even started to sink it. It was still so hard, automatically looking for Booker in the spaces where he would usually be before Nicky would remember. Nicky had to take care of his family, but the reminder that his entire family wasn’t there was constant, and so were the reasons why.

Nicky let that thought drift away and focused on Nile, hand still outstretched. The war on her face was easier to see in the light, and Nicky recognized the intensity of her eyes on Joe coupled with the doubt that she was intruding.

“C’mon _azizti_ ,” Joe mumbled, and Nicky and Nile couldn’t help but share a small grin at the pet name Joe had taken to using when he spoke vocally around her. 

She gave in, crawling between the two of them as Nicky draped the blankets back over all of them, and after he turned off the light, he settled on his back. His hand still sat only inches away from his gun, but he had the other two in his peripheral vision if he should wake. It took Nile a few more minutes to settle, adjusting to the intimacy of sharing a bed, but Joe was curled on his side and out again in an instant. Eventually, Nile followed him, also sleeping on her back, her arm laying serenely across her chest.

Nicky must have followed them both into a peaceful and deep sleep for once because when he opened his eyes, light from the dawn was just starting to peer through the blinds. They all must have gotten a few hours without nightmares, which made for a nice change.

He blearily rubbed his eyes with one hand as he remembered why Joe’s arm wasn’t wrapped around his side, the bemusedly looked over at his companions. His sleepy smile vanished at what he saw.

Nile had moved to her side at some point in the night, facing Joe. It was clear she was still in a deep sleep, but her hand bracketed Joe’s head, fingers curled around his scalp protectively, defensively. Her dark hand covered his ear completely, and her forearm covered his throat, shielding it. Their foreheads touched, but through the space Nile wasn’t unconsciously guarding with her body, Nicky could see some of Joe’s face.

He was wide awake and crying silently.

Nicky made a move to pull Nile away, concern overriding everything else, but Joe put his hand up to stop him. He couldn’t see Joe’s face clearly, and his heart thrummed to get to him and hold him through whatever was going on, but he respected Joe’s wishes and leaned back into the pillow, eyes stuck on their intertwined forms. He remembered Nile telling him about the lab, remembered the mention of a bad dream, and all of it started to come together in Nicky’s mind, making him sick with unease.

He did nothing but lie there silently, purposefully restraining his own thoughts in the quiet that surrounded them, until he felt Nile shift next to him. She was on her back again, neck stretching and eyes closed, and the tears on Joe’s face were already gone, no puffiness or wetness betraying their presence. Even if Nicky hadn’t watched this unfold, he would know that Joe had cried. Something in his dry eyes was always just a little too unsteady after.

Nile started to wake up more steadily after that, looking a bit confused; she must have shifted in her sleep before waking, and it was no longer obvious how she had been holding Joe. Still, even half-conscious, she could obviously feel the tension in the room.

Nile made to apologize before her eyes had even finished opening, but Joe tackled her to the bed before she could say or sign it. Her head hit Nicky’s thigh, and all three of them laughed as she pushed him off her while trying her best to make disgruntled faces. And even though their day was just starting and he could only guess at how long it would be, he was glad for this moment of levity and peace, at least, as Joe’s tackle transformed into a hug and Nile returned it before making a big show of untangling from his limbs.

She gave Nicky a grateful smile before leaving the room, and Nicky wanted to hold her head in his hands and kiss her forehead and say “ _I love you_ ” a million times in a million ways. Instead, he sat still as she disappeared from the doorway, and when he turned back to Joe, he knew from the look on his face that he had decided that it was time.

 _“Okay,”_ Joe signed, _“Okay.”_

And Nicky listened.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I realized I never wrote the list of prompts for Whumptober here, so uh /clears throat/: Nightmares, Comfort, Punctured, Wound Reveal, Ringing Ears, Trail of Blood, Panic Attacks.
> 
> Yeah, this is the chapter with the Mature rating for violence. I love Joe, I really do, swear to god, and I'm gonna be nicer to him in this verse when this month is over.
> 
> And again, because I can never say it enough: THANK YOU.

It wasn’t hard to guess why the scientist was so interested in him. So, it was difficult to defuse the livewire of fear that being separated from Nicky had set off down his spine.

Joe struggled to keep his calm composure as the guards wheeled him out of the lab and away from Nicky, still struggling and clearly screaming, but the scientist and her guards moved quickly. His Nicolò was gone from his view almost instantly.

He needed more time. He could have managed a smile for him, given him more words in his first tongue. Seeing Nicky is distress tugged at his heartstrings and left him aching, even if he knew Nicky’s pain was on Joe’s behalf. They were tangled together, the two of them, and Joe didn’t want it any other way, but the price of such things became known in times like this.

 _Please keep him safe_ , he prayed with his eyes wide open, the gurney he was on passing through windows that provided a view out into the world, even if it was just to other skyscrapers that hid the elite. It was a deary day, of course it was – _fucking London_ – and Joe couldn’t even be gifted with a bit of sunshine before he was pushed through another set of prison doors.

The scientist and her few assistants skirted around the room to prepare, and Joe pointedly didn’t look at the equipment surrounding him. Instead, he scanned the slightly larger room, noticing a smaller set of doors other than where he was pushed in – an elevator, maybe? – and took note of anything that could be used to help him escape. His options here weren’t much better than they were in the other lab, he noted with disappointment. He turned his head to the right before he remembered that Nicky wasn’t there anymore – just the edge of a white lab coat and the steel of his new cage.

A sliver a fear crept up on him. When they were captured in the past, Nicky’s absence always set him on edge, and waking up next to him was a balm since they arrived. But this scientist – this _doctor_ – had proven to be horribly inquisitive in the time she had them trapped together. Now that she knew he was deaf, her curiosity grew even more bloodthirsty, he could tell. He recognized that look on her face.

Joe clutched his fists and told himself it was a blessing in disguise. Whatever they did to him, they weren’t doing to Nicolò.

Then, a drill went into his ear, and that was the last coherent thought he had for a long time.

His throat erupted in a scream that he could feel down in his bones. It wasn’t enough to override the relentless drilling in his head, but he kept screaming, anyway. With Nicky not here to hear him, all his reserves on expressing his pain crumbled easily.

The first time the drilling stopped, he noticed that his cheeks were wet with tears he didn’t remember spilling. The second time, he’d dug his nails so deep into his palm, he could feel how sticky with blood it was.

The third time was the longest reprieve he got as the technicians strapped his head down to keep from moving, and Joe was about to think _Nicolò_ , _Nicolò_ , to think about the curve of his hands when he signed and his freckles under the Malta sun, before agony overtook him again and he went right back to screaming as hard as he could.

After a while, they stopped and disappeared. His body wanted to weep from relief of the pain, but his mind overrode it. A break in his torture meant that the scientist now with Nicky, and that was unacceptable. So instead of resting, he screamed again. He’d never know how loud he got, but evidently, it was enough to get the assistants to complain and bring the scientist back, an angry scowl painted on her face.

His mouth filled with blood before he could discern what kind of instrument she had in her hand, cutting him off mid-scream. He felt the air against an empty socket in his throat, and Joe knew the feeling well – Nicolò had gotten some good shots with arrows in at the beginning – but his body instantly panicked and struggled as she pried open a hole in the middle of his throat. The panic got worse when he felt something in there that kept his throat from healing closed.

Reviving after losing oxygen to his brain over and over was a lot like blinking in and out of existence. It was jarring and terrifying, and still, his throat kept trying to heal over the foreign object. Time was impossible to keep track up, and Joe barely had the time to think Nicky’s name before his brain died from lack of air, his chest heaving uselessly into an open hole at his throat.

The next time he opened his eyes, Joe still struggled to breathe, but he was conscious long enough to get a proper thought out. He felt foreign metal peeling back the skin at his neck, keeping his vocal cords from healing. Evidently, they didn’t want him dead the entire time they were experimenting on him, just quiet.

Joe’s vision swam, and an ancient part of him wanted to call out for help like a child lost in the woods. He had known pain, he had known torture, but this was pushing the limits even for him.

God, how he wanted to hold Nicky’s hand.

And suddenly, through the drilling pain, Joe _heard_ something. And it was the most awful thing he’d ever experienced.

It had to be the drill, but this was different from before. This grated his very nerves into dust, and his body jerked and spasmed, overwrought with the brand-new sensation, a relentless torment. His body yearned to scream despite its inability to do so. He wasn’t Joe, not anymore; he was a squirming mass of meat and pure agony.

Then abruptly, blessedly, it was gone. The room spun at an alarming pace as the pain receded enough for him to think _Nicolò_ , remembering his own name shortly after. His ear thrummed with pain, but the drilling had stopped, and that torturous sound was gone, too. He closed his eyes and reminded himself his ear needed to mostly heal for the world to stop spinning, and he took deep, ragged breaths, even as he shied away from the next round of torture.

But it didn’t come. Instead, the strap on his head fell away, then the ones around his waist and wrists. Joe realized that the clamps that had held his throat open weren’t touching his skin anymore, and air didn’t hit the exposed muscles in his throat. A small hand grabbed his shoulder, helping him upright as he coughed the excess blood out of his throat and mouth.

He opened his eyes, the room still spinning, and he was met with a familiar but unexpected sight. He’d seen that face bleeding out on a desert floor, her throat also split open, and she looked only slightly less horrifed now than she had during her first death. _Nile_ , his mind supplied.

The vertigo was relentless, but Nile guided him to his feet. He tripped over something as she led him against the wall; when he looked down, he saw the scientist, bloodied and squirming. She grabbed onto Nile’s boot, and she kicked out in response, landing a blow to the head and knocking her out cold. Joe was inclined to do worse, vertigo or no, and he made to kneel before a secure grip leaned him back against the wall and focused his attention on her.

 _“Andromache,”_ Nile fingerspelled the name slowly in ASL as he squinted his eyes, frustrated by the lack of concentration vertigo left him with, but his eyes widened in understanding when he saw her say, _“She’s mortal.”_

She must have heard the gunshots before he saw them because suddenly, the other woman pushed him back further down the wall, taking several bullets to the chest as she shielded him before falling limp to the floor. A fit of anger flared in him that was so familiar at the sight, and it only grew fiercer at the idea that Andy was vulnerable. He managed to sharpen it enough to force a gun out of one guard’s hand to shoot towards another. By the time he’d gotten an assault rifle, Nile had revived and shot the other two.

Vertigo still lingered as the pain in his right ear still shot through his head, but when Nile motioned for him to follow, he easily fell into line behind her. He’d only met this woman once before, but he recognized her hand signals instantly as military. Her eyebrows were creased in obvious concern, eyes scanning over his face, and Joe gave her the best cocky grin he could muster. He summoned the visage of his heart in his mind and gathered the strength he needed to push through.

 _Nicolò_ , he thought as they shot their way through the guards, barely noticing the blood at dripped consistently from a hole that might have constituted an ear. _Nicolò_ , he thought as a bullet pierced through his naked chest before nodding at Nile to go on, trusting her instantly and following her lead down the hall. _Nicolò_ , he thought as the pushed through those nightmarish metallic doors –

And then: there he was. Alive and whole, his Nicolò. He wanted to cry at the sight of him, but instead, he ripped off his restraints and kept pushing forward, through the pain and the blood and the fear that must have lingered on his body like a brand for everyone to see. He pushed through because he had to. Finding the words to make sense of it - that had to come later.

* * *

He had found the words. They arranged themselves clearly as day in his mind when Nile cradled his head in her sleep. But they still hadn’t made sense.

Joe told the whole story, too worn to try and censor himself for Nicky’s sake, knowing that Nicky would forgive him for not sparing him. But the storm in his eyes was still no easier to see, knowing that Yusuf’s words put it there.

It surprised him to find that his hands still moved when there was nothing left to say, but instead of spelling out terrors, they shook like the tailwinds of a hurricane. Nicky touched his bicep - the tremors had traveled further down his arm, but he realized it distantly, like watching a tragedy play out from the back of a theatre house.

The tremors had moved to his chest now, and it was here that the numb distance made way to acute reality. _I might die from this_ , that treacherous thought that crawled in his ear during every one of these fits, but this time, his shaking hands reached for his throat, seeking out the hole there, the obvious cause for his lack of breath, for the oxygen that failed to reach his brain, for the deflated excuse for lungs petering out like an old engine –

Long fingers pried the hand clutching his throat away and placed it on another throat instead. Joe didn’t grip; he could never hold something as precious as Nicky’s neck in his hands and mistreat it, no matter his distress. Nicky guided his forefinger and middle finger to lay flat against the hollow of his throat before he started to speak. The familiar vibrations at the edge of his fingertips grounded him like a rusted anchor in a storm: it wasn't enough to stop it, but it was still something. Nicky then brought Joe’s other hand to lay flat against his chest, breathing deeply with interspersed words, and Joe mimicked him, his chest rising and falling.

Joe slowly became aware enough to notice tear tracks on Nicky’s cheeks, but his face was all that resolute determination that defined him. The intensity of his gaze should conflict with his tender touch, but not to Joe, never to Joe. To him, it was another marker of home.

In time, the bolt in his throat unscrewed, bit by bit, until Joe could breathe again. Not easily, but enough to set the panic at bay. Nicky’s cheeks were dry by then, but he still cradled both of Joe’s hands: one at his throat, the other at his chest.

 _I love you_ , Joe thought, and he finally had the stability to let go of Nicky to say so. Nicky was as still as the eye of a hurricane, and Joe knew he was purposefully controlling the wreckage this story must have brought to his mind and soul. Then, he lay his hand flat against his own chest, before reaching out and touching Yusuf’s. It was the oldest language they had, and even though the terror refused to abate, it filled Joe with grace nonetheless.

Joe knew he’d been tired, carrying it all, but he thought he'd been managing it. Now that his load was finally shared, it looked enormous to his eyes. It always had been, of course, weighing him down piece by piece, but he talked himself out of realizing it. Joe could convince almost anyone of everything, even himself. He’d believed that with enough time and distance, this wouldn’t be the earth-shattering revelation that he was terrified it would be. He was wrong.

 _“I heard.”_ When Joe signed, his knees touched with Nicky’s in that instinctive need for constant contact, even when their hands were busy. “ _I used to be curious, of course I was curious. But that can’t be – Nicky, that wasn’t just a sound, it was… an invasion_ ,” he finally admitted to himself and Nicky both, and he felt his chest crack wide open, “ _A stripping of my identity and my agency, and Nicky, I_ _could_ feel it _–_ ”

His hands dropped limply, words slipping away from him just as quickly as they came. As he lay under Nile’s touch that morning, it was as if she had put it all together for him in her sleep. And he had wept, with gratitude, with affection, but mostly with the overwhelming grief of realizing what exactly he’d lost.

 _“What can I do?”_ asked Nicky, and that was the question all along, wasn’t it? Nicolò and his valiant heart and unerring need to do good, to help people, and no one more than Joe. That was his life’s mission, and Joe knew he had failed Nicky when he said –

 _“I don’t know.”_ Joe gestured, hands pathetically loose and limp. “ _I don’t know,_ ” he admitted, feeling like he was damning them both.

Nicky just pulled him in close, pulled him back into bed, and Joe buried himself in his heart’s chest, blocking out the light and the feeling of anything but his Nicolò’s breath and heartbeat.

* * *

Time was lost to him for a while after that.

He stayed there most of the time, cocooned in Nicky’s existence. Sometimes crying uncontrollably, sometimes falling out of his body completely. Familiar fingers rubbing his scalp through his hair was his only connection to the living world.

There were blips in time that he barely noticed - Nicky putting food to his lips, Nicky sitting him down in the shower – but settling into this new existence felt both mountainous and untouchable. Nicky told him to be patient, and Joe knew that he was right. But he wanted to fit into this new reality, wanted to move past this trauma, and he wanted to be _better_.

Nicky was so patient and gentle with him as he learned how to fit back into his skin again, and even in this petrified state, constantly on the edge of a panic attack, Joe was grateful. He took care of him, made things simple, just asked him yes or no questions and reacted accordingly.

(Nicky deserved someone who told him every second of every day how wonderful he was, but Joe wasn’t up to the task, and that fact made him want to melt away in shame.)

Nicky asked him if Joe wanted to be with the rest of the family, and Joe said yes.

He couldn't name the aroma Andy had carried with her for a thousand years, words still barely skirting the edges of his mind – something ancient, something ageless - but he recognized the earthy tone, and when he leaned into her thin shoulder, her arms and the aroma both lulled him back home.

( _Mortal_ , he signed, like Nile did for him back in that lab, and a shudder grew from the pit of his heart out to the edges of his skin with all the terrifying and predictable possibilities that came with that word, and Nicky hushed him back to stillness, back to here and now.)

Nile was movement and grace and love redefined, her very presence transformative, and he watched her tell her stories for hours and hours with his back at Nicky’s chest. She used BASL more often around them now, he realized, and he warmed to know that she was becoming comfortable enough to use it with them. Joe watched, enraptured, sometimes even asking her to stop and clarify a sign. The relief in her eyes was palpable whenever he did so.

( _Nile, I never spoke to her, we have to make this right with Nile, please look after Nile_ , and Nicky said _yes, my love, of course we are looking after her, try not to worry about anyone but yourself_ , and Nicky was right, even if it went against the fundamentals of Joe’s very existence.)

Sometimes, he still looked for Booker, and when he caught himself doing so, he was lost to himself for the rest of the night.

( _Did he know? Could he have known?_ Joe both wanted and feared the answers, and the floor opened up beneath for weeks at his every reminder, every well-loved book, every century-old flask, every extra shaving razor and light jean-jacket hanging by the door, Booker loved denim, he took to it so fast –

It didn’t get easier. But when this ache washed over him, he taught himself to keep from flinching and disappearing from it. And Nicky was there to hold his hand.)

 _“I’m sorry,”_ Joe would say.

 _“Don’t you dare,”_ Nicky would reply. So, Joe kissed him instead, feeling a little more like himself every time. This wasn’t surprising; Nicky housed the whole of him, after all.

The grief and the damage still rippled under his chest, threatening to break him for good, but it hadn’t, and it wouldn’t. People did not break; Joe believed this, even if errant thoughts still whispered otherwise. People did not break, they just got lost. Joe fell into the pits of despair; then, his family helped him out, bit by bit, over and over again. And that was how it would go, until he wasn't as prone to getting lost anymore.

One morning, after an unknowable amount of time had passed, Joe woke up feeling restless. That hadn’t happened in a long time, and he smiled to feel a sense of direction in his bones once again. Something that felt a little more like him.

Nicky turned over and recognized something in his eyes, giving him a beautiful smile himself. He leaned in and kissed Joe’s nose, his eyelids, his forehead, down his jawline to his bearded chin before landing on his lips like a blessing. And the thrumming under Joe’s skin grew still. Joe suspected it wouldn’t last, but he would take this reprieve and run with it. Literally.

 _“Are we going for a run?”_ Joe asked as he walked into the living room. He felt strangely unbalanced after falling out of this routine, and Nile starred up at him from the couch, taken aback, but recovered as gracefully as she ever did.

 _“Yeah, now that you’re finally up, old man,”_ sign Nile, her eyes suspiciously wet as she ducked down to get her shoes on.

Joe looked out the doorway, out into the rising sun. His palm gripped the wooden doorframe, feeling every crease and line he touched. He felt a light breeze move the ends of his curls, felt Nile playfully push him out the door, felt the sun warm on his face, and miraculously – he felt like himself.

Nicky waved from the window, shirtless and looking lovely with a tilt in his smile, the morning sun dancing against the windowpane and his azure eyes. Joe blew him a kiss and a wink, Nile tugged his arm while rolling her eyes, and he counted his blessings. Something horrified and horrendous still sat under his skin, he knew, and it would rear its head again – but for now, he was home. And that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: [flightsofwonder](https://flightsofwonder.tumblr.com/).


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